Bone Crossed

For the first time, he looked to me like what he was. Somehow, before, he’d always looked like an extra from a Dickens movie—someone full of pomp and circumstance and nothing more. Now, in motion, he looked like a predator, the Edwardian facade nothing but a thin skin to hide what was beneath.

Estelle had always unnerved me, but I discovered I hadn’t been afraid of Bernard until just then.

Stefan stayed silent while Bernard ranted. “He was worse than Marsilia, in the end. He brought that thing ... that uncontrollable abomination among us.” He paused and stared at me. I dropped my eyes immediately, but I could feel his attention burning into my skin. “It is good your sheep killed it, though Marsilia couldn’t see it. It would have brought upon us our doom—and she did us the second favor by killing Andre.”

He stopped speaking for a moment, but his eyes were still on me, digging through fur to see me. It was uncomfortable and scary.

“We would let her live—and if Marsilia has her way, she is dead—just like your last flock.” Bernard waited for that to sink in. “Marsilia has minions who work in the day ... Hell. With the crossed bones on your coyote’s business proclaiming her a traitor to all of us, how long do you think she’ll survive? Goblins, harriers, the carrion feeders—there are a lot of Marsilia’s allies who hunt in the day.”

“She is the Alpha’s mate. The wolves will keep her safe when I cannot.”

Bernard laughed. “There are some of them who would kill her faster than Marsilia ever would. A coyote? Please.” His voice softened. “You know she will die. If Marsilia wanted to kill her for slaying Andre, how do you think she’ll feel now that you’ve taken the coyote for your own? She doesn’t want you, but our Mistress has ever been jealous. And you protected this one for years when you should have told us all that there was a walker living among us. You took chances for her—what would have happened if another vampire had noticed what she was? Marsilia knows you care for her, more than you ever did the sheep you fed off. Eventually, Mercedes will die, and it will be your fault.”

Stefan flinched at that. I didn’t need to look at his face to see it, because I felt him jerk against me.

“You need Marsilia to die, or Mercy will,” Bernard said. “Whom do you love, Soldier? The one who saved you or the one who abandoned you? Whom do you serve?”

He waited, and so did I.

“She was a fool to let you go alive,” Bernard murmured. “There were two others she trusted with the place she sleeps. Andre is dead. But you know, don’t you? And you rise a full hour before she does. You can keep this from being a bloody battle with many casualties. Who will die? Lily, our gifted musician, almost certainly. Estelle hates her, you know—she is talented and beautiful when Estelle is neither. And Marsilia loves her dearly. Lily will die.” Then he smiled. “I’d kill her myself, but I know that you care for her, too. You could protect her from Estelle, Stefan.”

And he went on naming names. Lesser vampires, I thought, but people Stefan cared for.

When he finished, he looked at Stefan’s stubborn face and shook his head in exasperation. “Stefan, for God’s sake. What are you doing? You belong nowhere. She doesn’t want you. She couldn’t be more plain if she had killed you outright. Estelle is foolish. She thinks she can rule when Marsilia is gone. But I know better. Neither of us is strong enough to hold the seethe unless we could work together—but we will not. There are no ties between us, no love, and that is the only way two nearly equal vampires can work together for long. But you could. I would serve you as faithfully as you have served all these years. We need you if we are to survive.” He had begun pacing again. “Marsilia will see us all dead. You know that. She is crazy—only a crazy woman could put her trust in Wulfe. She’ll have the humans hunting us again, not just this seethe but all of our kind. And we will not survive. Please, Stefan.”

Stefan went down on one knee and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. He bowed his head and whispered to me. “I am sorry.” Then he stood up. “I am an old soldier,” he told Bernard. “I serve only one, even though she has forsaken me.” He stretched out his hand, and this time I felt him pull something from me as his sword appeared in his hand. “Would you try me here?” he asked.

Bernard made a frustrated noise, then threw up his hands in a theatrical gesture. “No. No. Please, Stefan. Just stay out of it when the fight begins.”

And he turned and ran. It wasn’t like the way Stefan could disappear, but it would have pushed me to keep with him—and I’m fast. It was fast enough that he probably didn’t hear Stefan say, “No.”

He stood beside me and watched Bernard until the vampire was out of sight. And he waited a little more. I watched the female slip out of the trees and found another one as he left his cover. That one Stefan raised a hand to and got a salute in return.